


Knight of Love and Beauty

by EryiScrye (SomberSecrets)



Series: Adventures of the Crack-Council [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack-Council, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hated S8 Show-Canon So Much I Said Screw It And Went For Stupidly Happy Over Reasonable, Humor, Like PURE fluff, Queen of Love and Beauty, Romance, practically crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 11:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19149880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomberSecrets/pseuds/EryiScrye
Summary: It was his lack of forethought concerning the entirety of the situation and possibly the excitement of seeing his Lady Wife compete at the first tourney held after the Last War that had led Jaime to being completely unprepared for what was obviously going to happen.When Jaime Lannister would reflect on it later, it would become painfully, painfully, evident, that everyone, everyone, else knew what Ser Brienne Lannister would do.





	Knight of Love and Beauty

It had never really occurred to Jaime what Brienne would do when she won the tourney. And it really was a matter of _when_ and not _if_.

It wasn’t like Brienne was going to be using that wreath of flowers to stake a claim on some unsuspecting young woman and there was no risk of Brienne slighting a Lady Wife in her choice. No. That kind of recklessness had caused enough strife. It was for the best that Brienne would win the all the tourneys she graced her presence with for the next twenty years. When Brienne would hand those flowers to some deserving Lady, it would be simply out of respect and caring. Maybe instead of war, that crown of flowers could make peace. Or at the very least, thousands wouldn’t die over the presenting of it.

It was his lack of forethought concerning the entirety of the situation and possibly the excitement of seeing _his_ Lady Wife compete at the first tourney held after the Last War that had led Jaime to being completely unprepared for what was obviously going to happen.

When Jaime Lannister would reflect on it later, it would become painfully, _painfully_ , evident, that everyone, _everyone_ , else knew what Ser Brienne Lannister would do.

 

“Jaime, if you lean forward anymore, you’re going to topple over the railing,” Tyrion japed as he gulped from his flagon of wine, a grin on his face and excitement rattling his bones.

“Get any closer and you’ll topple under it,” Jaime shot back with good humor, leaning back in his seat anyways, but immediately leaning forward again nearly bouncing in his seat from sheer anticipation. Jon and Daenerys laughed from their thrones as their usually composed Hand conducted himself in a manner not unlike that of a fifteen year old besotted fool.

Davos chuckled, “Leave him be. We’ve all needed a break from council meetings and diplomacy these past moons.”

Arya glowered petulantly with crossed arms and crossed legs, “This is stupid. Why do I have to be up here? I wanted to take part. Even stupid Gendry gets to take part.” Her eyes scanned over the tourney field, desperate and wanting to be out there with the warriors, knights, and squires. Her fingers twitched, desperate to pull at the hilt of Needle, belted securely to her hip.

Jon really did try not to roll his eyes at her. He really did. This would have been close to the tenth time they would have rehashed this discussion, “Not for the first tourney Arya. The council should all be present for the Seven Kingdoms to witness.” He felt like a defeated parrot, which as King of the Seven Kingdoms was certainly not what his disposition should have been, but here he was, a defeated parrot and certainly one that Arya was pointedly not listening to.

“I’d still be present; I’d just be killing everyone.”

Sam happily laughed at his friend’s plight against his younger sister and tried to support him, “The point is not to kill everyone.”

“The wench would hack you into pieces,” Jaime retorted jovially at the same time. His eyes were on his Lady Wife and although he was bantering with Arya, his attention was completely Brienne’s as he smirked down at her and she rolled her astonishing eyes at him and waved amusedly back as she waited to be called upon again.

Bronn snorted at Jaime, “You only think that because you’re fucking her.”

Jaime glowered at Bronn ready to smack him with his golden hand, but before violence was had, Tyrion swooped in with a microcosm of reason, “And pray tell what happened last time you dueled Ser Brienne?”

Bronn didn’t reply.

Arya cackled. Even Grey Worm let out a snort as the memory. No one insulted Brienne but Jaime, but even more importantly, no one insulted Jaime but Brienne.

Daenerys, meanwhile, tried to save Jon’s eyeballs from muscle strain, “Arya, you get to be out of the council room more than the rest of us. Take this as an opportunity to show the Seven Kingdom’s that they can’t hide anything from you. Show them that you are watching them all.”

“And I thought the whole point of Master of Whisperers was the subterfuge,” Arya pouted but was willing to concede to the Queen over Jon.

“The whole point of you is that you can be anyone,” Sam grinned, always oddly undisturbed by Arya’s face changing capabilities.

“Arya just take the chance to look down at people, you hardly ever get the chance anyways,” Jon said with a grin tugging at his lips. Jon took Daenerys’s hand in his. She tried not rolling her eyes at him now.

“Are you calling me short?”

Davos sighed, “Take your hand off the dagger Arya.” He exchanged a look with Daenerys that spoke volumes of how much blood shed they, along with Grey Worm, had to prevent on the daily.

Tyrion took another gulp of wine and thought, ‘to hell with it,’ and joined in on the fun. “Arya, Jaime will tell you regicide is a complicated business.” Davos’ eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head in exasperation.

Jaime finally stopped staring at Brienne. “Seven hells Tyrion! It’s like you want me to be dragon fodder.”

“My father was no—“ Daenerys attempted to cut in to make peace and prevent their Master of Ships from walking out on them right there and then. Jon and Arya’s and Jaime and Tyrion’s japing sibling relationships were beyond her understanding. This was why it had taken so many moons to organize a simply tourney in celebration of peace among the Seven Kingdoms.

“I’ve already killed one King!” Arya shouted at whoever would listen.

“You _tried_ to be dragon fodder once,” Bronn had to remind Jaime.

“I feel like the Night King doesn’t really count in the same way,” Sam contemplated.

Tyrion grunted, “Immensely stupid.”

“Brave,” Jaime defended.

“Still a King!”

Bronn scoffed, “Fucking moronic.”

“Unwise,” Grey Worm provided, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“People are going to get the wrong idea Arya,” Sam continued.

Jaime looked at Daenerys for some back up. Daenerys sighed and gave him a pitying look, “Quite idiotic.” Jon snorted in laughter beside her and held Daenerys’s hand tighter, proud that she had joined into the fray.

“Pipsqueak!” Jon goaded at Arya.

“Have you told Ser Brienne about that? I should tell Ser Brienne about that,” Tyrion cackled.

Jaime pouted as he crossed his arms and sat back in his seat, “She’s already reamed me out about it.”

“Good riddance. Maybe you’ll actually listen to her before doing something so stupid again.”

Grey Worm delicately placed his hands on Arya’s shoulders so that she wouldn’t bulldoze her head into Jon’s nose.

Davos rubbed his temples as he felt a headache coming on. He shot Brienne a look through the crowd and was glad to see Lord Gendry, and Lady Sansa with her as well. They gave him pitying but supportive smiles knowing exactly what was happening up on the council stage.

 

Sansa leaned forward while still keeping an eye and an ear out for what was happening on the upper dais, “I wonder if they know…”

“Nope.” The replies were succinct and simultaneous. Gendry and Brienne gave each other appreciative looks of camaraderie and understanding.

“By the old gods and the new… that pack of squabbling children are the future of Westeros,” Sansa sighed.

“It demonstrates their formidability that they can conduct themselves in such a manner publicly, yet no one would dare question their rule,” Bran interjected with a knowing look.

And it was true. Although the council was squabbling like children now, from the moment they had been established, they had managed to wrangle, in an unprecedented amount of time, the Seven Kingdoms into what amounted to be the most peaceful era Westeros had known in centuries.

 

What finally shut them up was when Brienne was called upon again for the final duel and Jaime had practically commanded silence as his emerald eyes shone in fierce pride and adoration. Looped delicately in Brienne’s right gauntlet was Jaime’s favour, a Lannister red ribbon, her vow that she would always be Jaime’s right hand and his vow that he would never let go of hers.

None of them had gone quiet at Jaime’s insistence, obviously. But all were very interested in what would happen in a clash between Brienne and Sandor. No one but Arya and Ser Podrick Payne had witnessed the previous fight after all and Arya herself seemed overly keen to observe the rematch.

“Looks like Sansa Stark will be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty today,” Jaime murmured off handedly as his eyes followed the movement of Brienne’s stretches before the match was called to commence.

Eight pairs of eyes, eight bodies all turned towards him in synchrony.

Arya’s eyes narrowed, “Are you possessed?”

“I fear he may have taken a hit to the head,” Bronn rumbled.

Tyrion dropped his flagon where is clattered and spilled wine across the council’s wooden stage, darkening the wood, “Did you just seriously imply that Sandor was going to win?”

Jaime looked rightfully confused, “What? No—“

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ser Jaime discount Ser Brienne before,” Grey Worm even mumbled shocked and nearly appalled.

“I fear our Hand has been incapacitated and replaced by an imposter,” Jon whispered lowly to Daenerys who nodded frantically.

Before Jaime could question what the Seven they were talking about, the unmistakable sound of steel sliding out of sheath rung across the crowd as the near silence began to rise to a roar.

“Try not to leave me for dead this time you great beast of a woman!” Sandor jeered almost fondly, gripping his greatsword in both of his hands.

Brienne grinned at him with Oathkeeper deftly held in one of hers, “I can’t swear it _Ser_ Sandor.” It had been one of the greatest pleasures of Sansa’s, Arya’s, and Brienne’s lives to force a knighthood on the ever hissy Clegane.

And thus began an overly brutal battle where both opponents had obviously sparred so many times before that each were trying desperately to out maneuver the other by doing crazily unexpected things. Sandor had been the first to be disarmed, but he had zero qualms about body checking Brienne straight into the ground by charging at her directly from the front and wrenching Oathkeeper from her soon after. She meanwhile had planted her knee right into the solar plexus to throw him off of her and had made sure to wrestle Oathkeeper from his hands at the cost of having it thrown out of both of their reach. Sandor had then clattered her with his fist in a way that had made her armor practically ring across the stands and would definitely make it impossible to remove without the help of a smith. In return, she had nearly kicked in his knee to down him and although the injury would definitely not be long lasting, it would put him in the care of Sam for at least a couple days. Sandor would absolutely hate that.

Arya had roared in excitement along with the rest of the council and crowd as Jaime fluctuated from being immensely proud of his wife to terrified of and for her. Jaime sparred with her all the time, but they had never been this sort of brutal to one another. He was glad of that. It did not seem at all pleasant and he was sure Brienne would be in bed recovering from sore muscles for as long as Sandor was being tended to by the Grand Maester. Not that Jaime minded this particular turn of events. Jaime did wonder what their fight must have been like when they had actually been trying to kill one another.

 

It was a strange turn of events when Brienne, with the crown of flowers rode straight past Sansa Stark.

Jaime blinked, “How odd.”

“What is?” Daenerys asked immensely concerned, his eyes hardening as he scanned the crowd for danger. She squeezed Jon’s hand by her side, but he was already scrutinizing the crowd with her.

“I thought she would declare Sansa Stark. I suppose it will be you, Your Grace. A good choice for the new realm’s first tourney.”

Daenerys turned to look at him with unbelieving, violet eyes.

Tyrion was the one though to voice what everyone on that dais was thinking, “Are you daft brother?”

Jon relaxed suddenly, realizing before the others what must have been going on in their Hand’s mind, and lit up, “Oh this should be fun to watch.”

As Jaime expected Brienne made a loop around the arena for show but finally slowed below the stage. “I’d like to name my Queen of Love and Beauty…” she flourished with the crown in both of her hands and held high above her head.

“By the Seven, even being married to one of you Lannisters increases the dramatics,” Bronn grumbled also oddly excited about something.

Jaime frowned, “I don’t—“

“Or rather,” Brienne continued before Jaime could further make a fool of himself, “my Knight of Love and Beauty.”

Jaime’s eyes swivelled to Arya who was staring at him incredulously and held up both hands, “No one has knighted me yet, Ser.”

Then there were still three knights on that stage and like hell was Brienne referring to either Davos or Bronn. Jaime, for lack of a better word, launched himself at the railing and looked down at Brienne with a rather manic expression of surprise. She grinned up at him. A quirk she had gotten from him. “Come now Lord Husband, what did you expect?”

Jaime gaped at her like a fish out of water.

Brienne leaned up and placed the crown of flowers on his head and chastely kissed him on the cheek, “I think it rather becomes you, Jaime.” And with the roaring laughter of the council and audience, Brienne rode back into the crowd nodding at all who praised the fact that she had rendered a famously gabby Lannister speechless.

 

Sansa Stark had tears in her eyes from laughter. “You thought she would name _me_ Queen of Love and Beauty.”

Jaime gritted his teeth, “It seemed reasonable at the time.”

“Do you hear this Sandor? He thought she was going to name _me_ Queen of Love and Beauty,” Sansa continued to laugh wiping at the corner of her eyes.

It was cold day in hell when Sandor Clegane was laughing at your expense.

“You know, it would probably help your situation if you took it off,” Sam suggested to Jaime as he pressed on Sandor’s knee, causing the large man to hiss in pain and for Sansa to go a flutter at his side.

Jaime looked at Sam positively scandalized at such a suggestion, bringing his left hand up to touch the flowers still perched on his golden mane, and Sansa’s giggles positively renewed themselves.

“You’ve taken to the title quite well considering your utter obliviousness,” Arya remarked as she skillfully sliced an apple and handed a slice to her sister and another to Sandor. Jaime got one too.

“Why aren’t you with Lady Brienne? I was able to remove her armor a short while ago and she expressed a great desire for a bath and then rest,” Gendry enquired from Arya’s side, crunching through the slice of apple that Arya had lovingly _shoved_ into his mouth.

“The old gods and the new know you two never leave each other alone when you have the chance,” Arya muttered as she took a bite of the last slice and then shoved the rest into Gendry’s mouth again. Jaime would never understand Arya’s brand of wooing but it seemed to work for the young Lord Baratheon.

“I was hoping to entreaty the help of Lady Sansa,” Jaime muttered shifting his eyes around the room.

Sansa’s eyebrow rose, “Well?”

“I would have preferred to speak to you alone.”

“You’re among friends Ser Jaime.”

Jaime sighed in defeat knowing this was unequivocally true. What was one more humiliation to the day? “I was hoping you would teach… and probably help me weave a crown of flowers.”

He expected some laughter. But there was none at his expense. “For Lady Brienne?” Sansa asked quietly.

He nodded, “For Brienne.”

Sansa gave him a tender smile, “She’ll love one.”

“No roses,” he implored.

“Okay.”

 

Jaime opened the door to their chamber as quietly as he could in case she was already sleeping, but he need not have worried, Brienne was in bed, but reading by candlelight. He knew, because he knew her, that she was reading a retelling of a tale concerning a knight and his wooing of a ladylove. There was a very high chance that courting through the use of flowers was involved in the tale. Jaime noticed that a smattering of bruises had joined the freckles of her skin, but she looked otherwise well, if not a bit sleepy.

Brienne looked over at him as Jaime shut the door behind him and gave him one of her soft, loving smiles. “And what has my Lord Husband been doing so late into the night?”

“Your Lord Husband has been attempting to dote on his Lady Wife,” he replied as he moved towards the bed in a way that would keep his gift to her out of sight.

Brienne giggled as she brought up a hand to stroke his face, “And how is he supposed to dote on his Lady Wife if she has been in her chambers since evenfall waiting for him?”

He pressed the skin of his cheek gently into the palm of her warm, solid, and callused hand, an action he did often and positively reveled in, “Oh, he finds a way wench.”

Brienne quirked a smile as her eyes traced his features and then to the crown still in his hair, “The flowers really do become you Jaime. I don’t think anyone in the world suits better Love and Beauty.”

Jaime hummed and turned his face to kiss her palm, “I think I’d rather be Honor and Kindness.”

“You are honorable and can be kind too,” Brienne laughed as Jaime leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, causing a burning want to careen through her tired body. A weight suddenly settled in her hair. Brienne’s lashes fluttered as Jaime pulled back to smile at her with devotion and desire. Brienne reached up to feel the freshly woven crown of flowers he had placed in her hair.

“A little bit lop sided, but you can’t expect much from a man only sometimes kind and somewhat honorable.”

Tears sprung to the corner of her eyes, “Oh… Jaime…”

“The weave is not so wretched that it should drive you to tears wench,” Jaime teased as he drew back to undress for bed, never taking his eyes off of Brienne as her hands didn’t seem to know what to do and so fluttered around the petals tangling in her locks.

She smiled at him, so endearingly, that he felt his heart swell. He would make her a crown of flowers every day if she so wished. “Hurry and come to bed Jaime.”

He happily obliged.

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing was supposed to be a lot less fluffy and a lot more crack... Jaime was going to basically appear at the next several small council meetings with the crown still in his hair and then he was going to deign to compete in the next tourney so he could crown Brienne... but all of that was too absurd and this felt just... sweeter.
> 
> Through the writing of the part with the small council, I managed to come up with a whole entire universe that I may or may not expand on in a couple more JB centered one-shots, but we'll see. Yes... They will continue to be called the crack council. Here's the composition (and why) if you're curious.
> 
> King and Queen: Jon and Daenerys (married and share the power cause neither of them were being absurd over this option)  
> Hand: Jaime (because Jaime tells Jon and Dany about Aerys when he finds out Jon is Rhaegar’s son and they deem him to be the most likely to keep the King and Queen in check if madness were ever to take over, plus he has experience with all of the other roles of the Hand)  
> Whisperer: Arya (she can be literally anyone and I'm sure would be able to establish her own network, of which she calls "the pack")  
> Coin: Bronn (he only finds the gold, he’s so not allowed a say on how to spend it)  
> Laws: Tyrion (a much more academic pursuit for our cunning dwarf)  
> Ships: Davos (fairly self explanatory)  
> Lord Commander: Grey Worm (also as above)  
> Maester: Sam (yas Sam)


End file.
